


Needing You

by chooken



Series: Keeping You [12]
Category: Westlife
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Apologies, Arguing, Awkwardness, Boys Kissing, Christmas, Churches & Cathedrals, Conversations, Cooking, Dating, Emotional Hurt, Established Relationship, Fights, Forgiveness, Friendship, Hidden Talents, Honesty, Kissing, Love, M/M, Marckian, Marcky, Married Couple, Multi, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Relationship Discussions, Sacrifice, Sloppy Seconds, Snow, Snowmen, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-26 15:14:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3855337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chooken/pseuds/chooken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kian will do anything he can to make things okay with Nicky, even if it means taking a good long look at what he really needs in his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Needing You

“How've you been?”  
  
Kian shrugged, gesturing at the room they were sat in. It was your bog-standard boring hotel room, fully equipped with just enough comfort to not make it feel remotely like home. There was a bed, a TV, a small sitting area, a balcony, and a bar fridge. He'd been making more use of some of those things than others, though he was sort of glad for the maid service. He really didn't need Mark to see the tiny bottles or the messy duvet that had basically become his life over the last month.

“It's a nice hotel...”

“It's a hotel.” Kian sighed. They were on the bed, leaned against the headboard watching TV. It was nice enough, in a thoroughly depressing way. He was just glad Mark was here.

A whole month. When he'd been sent out they'd said a week. Or Mark had. Nicky hadn't said much of anything, other than get your stuff and get out. Kian couldn't blame him, really. He couldn't blame anyone, except himself. He hadn't even spoken to Nicky since then, though Mark had kept in constant contact, calling him and dropping by occasionally to check on him.

“Does Nicky know you're here?”

“Yeah.” Mark nodded. “Not exactly going to risk lying to him again, am I?” Kian grimaced, feeling liquid shame start to itch at his gut. “Don't be too hard on yourself, yeah?”

“Don't exactly have anything else to do.” Kian pointed out. He had thought about going away again, getting on a plane and going somewhere sunny, but he didn't have the energy. Couldn't make himself find the interest or enthusiasm for anything. Mark was visiting him occasionally, sure, but nothing could happen. Mark wouldn't risk it, and Kian wouldn't make him. It was all too delicate.

One shag. One stupid, idiotic moment that had made perfect sense at the time. He'd just wanted to see. See if what he was feeling was real, if he could move on without them, if there was something else in his life bigger and more worth having. There wasn't apparently, because sat here on a bed that had basically become his world, he just felt empty and alone. But he'd wanted to test it, had pushed, had asked Mark for help, and had only succeeded in making things worse. In not only driving a wedge between himself and Nicky, but between Mark and Nicky too.

Mark said it was okay. When he came to visit that first time, a week and a half after Kian had left. That he and Nicky were okay. That Nicky understood, even if he wasn't exactly forgiving. That he loved both of them, but that he was just having a hard time of it. Was feeling angry and betrayed.

“Can I have a hug?” He said quietly. Mark smiled, squeezing his shoulder.

“Of course you can.” And then he was leaning over, and Kian was wrapped up in warm, familiar arms that made him want to burst into tears. Made him want to go to sleep, too, because despite spending most of his time in bed he hadn't been able to rest, not without the comfort of Mark or Nicky wrapped around him, breathing with him, swamping him in the smell and feel and sound of them. It was too quiet here, too blank. He squeezed Mark tight, felt the answering squeeze.

“I'm so sorry.”

“I know.” Mark murmured, stroking his hair gently. “I forgive you.”

Kian did cry, then, hot tears beginning to roll down his nose as warm hands rubbed his back.

Mark made soothing noises until it stopped, then let him go, kissing him gently on the forehead.

“It's okay.” Mark said, brushing a chaste kiss over his lips. “He'll get over it. You know what he's like. He's just angry and being stubborn. I don't even think he's that angry at you, exactly, he just knows that he's pissed off and doesn't want to have to say he's sorry, or that he was wrong.”

“But he wasn't wrong.”

“No, he wasn't.” Mark conceded, tugging Kian in to snuggle against his side. Kian leaned his head gratefully on Mark's shoulder, closing his eyes. “You're not going to sleep?”

“Maybe.” Kian admitted. “Haven't been sleeping well. Too quiet.” Too lonely, he added, though it seemed pathetic to say out loud. Mark seemed to understand, though, and held him a little tighter. “I just wish I could take it back. It didn't even mean anything.”

“It did though.” Mark said quietly. “I mean... not her. But doing it at all. You'd really thought about it in advance or whatever. If you hadn't done it...” He shrugged against Kian's side. “You'd just be sitting around with us, keeping your mouth shut and still feeling like you didn't belong.”

“Yeah.” Kian nodded. “Maybe. Or... I dunno.” Mark was right. It had been a long time coming, the thump at the end of a long, downward slide. Well, he was definitely at the bottom now, and he didn't know how to crawl his way back up. Fingers ran gently through his hair. “I love you.” He said softly. Lips touched to his forehead.

“I love you too.” Mark whispered, his voice trickling a little warmth into Kian's cold heart. “If... if Nicky wasn't being the way he was...” He swallowed against Kian's side. “What would you want to do? Ideally? Would you want to come back? Have things be the same way? Or would you want to be with other people? Get out on your own?”

Kian shrugged. He didn't really know, honestly. It wasn't the losing them that was killing him so much, because he still had them, sort of. They were still his best friends, his bandmates, and he knew logically that Nicky probably would calm down after a bit, would make tentative contact when he had to and things would fall back into the old dynamic, the one before this mess. It would be Nicky and Mark again, and Kian and Shane would be those lads that sang quite near them sometimes. He had that, at least. It was the other things. The waking up in the morning to someone being there, to having someone to sit across from at breakfast, to cuddling on the couch and being touched by someone who knew you inside out, who took you exactly as you were. Who saw you. Really saw you.

Well, Nicky wasn't exactly seeing him now, was he?

He missed the relationship. This, here, with Mark's fingers stroking through his hair and the TV on even though neither of them were watching it. The comfort and acceptance.

Maybe he could get that somewhere else. Start all over again and find someone who could do those things for him. But he had that already, didn't he? With these two boys that had become as much a family as his own.

“I want...” He hesitated, not sure how to put this into words. “I want to be with someone who loves me. I want that to be you two, because I've never felt so good in my whole life as being with you two, but at the same time...” He exhaled, trying to think. “I don't know, Mark. Is this something we can do for the rest of our lives? Really? Because I'm getting older, and you are too, and then suddenly I'm forty. Fifty. Sixty. Do we keep going on like this and suddenly you two are settled and I have to start all over again and find a girlfriend when I'm pushing seventy and haven't got any teeth left?”

“You could say that about anything, though.” Mark argued. “Like, you never want to commit to someone because one day they might leave? Shit, if that's how it works I would never have gotten married, in case I got divorced one day. Or fuck, Nicky could get sick tomorrow, or hit by a meteor, or spontaneously combust, and it doesn't mean the last few years wouldn't have been worthwhile. I'll miss him, but it doesn't mean I'd take it back.”

“Yeah, but you two...” Kian reached over, joining their hands. It felt right, watching his fingers slip into Mark's, feeling them link. “You're bigger than me. You know you are. I want to be bigger too.”

“Well, keep eating room service mac and cheese, and you won't be too far off.” Mark joked. Kian gave him a thin smile, squeezing his hand. “I get ya. I do. But I can't tell you what to do. You need to figure that out yourself.”

“And in the end it won't mean anything if Nicky won't take me back.” Kian pointed out. “I don't want one without the other. At the start it was just you I wanted, but it's not any more. It's both of you. It's this thing you have together, where I get to feel a part of that.” He looked up. “I love you so fucking much.”

“Ki...” Mark sighed, ducking to kiss him. Kian returned it, running fingers through Mark's hair, feeling it deepen a little bit, a soft moan brushing his tongue.

“Stop.” Kian pushed him away. It was nearly impossible, but he did it. “We can't do this. It's just making it worse.” He tucked himself back into Mark's chest. “You should go. Be with Nicky. He'll be pissed off that you're here at all, and I don't want...” He swallowed, feeling tears clog his throat. “I can't let you two break up. You're my favourite thing in the world and I feel like I'm ruining it. I'd rather be alone than...” A thumb came up, brushing away a tear he hadn't realised he was shedding.

“He'll come around.” Mark promised. Kian shook his head.

“Go home.” He sat up. “I'll be fine here. I'll just...” He glanced around the room. “Watch some TV.” He reached for the remote. “Go be married. You've not been married three months, and you're already sneaking around with me? Whore.”

Mark chuckled, leaning over to kiss his shoulder.

“I love you, Ki.” He said softly. “Just figure out what you want. Whatever it is, I've always got your back.”

“Thanks.” Kian nodded, laughing when arms came around his waist, squeezing too tight. “Eejit.”

“Fuckhead.” Mark replied affectionately. “Call me if you need me, okay?”

“I always need you.” Kian breathed, pulling out of the embrace.

Mark left. Kian settled back on the bed, putting the TV on mute and closing his eyes, grasping at the memory of Mark's scent.

 

*

 

Kian sat in his car, turning the invitation over in his hands. He'd been sat here for a while, not sure what to do. Before that he'd been sat in his hotel room, with even less idea. It was harder here, though, sat out front of a Sligo church, the familiarity snapping at his heels.

He took a deep breath, looking down at the invitation again. He couldn't exactly have said no, could he? No, Shane, I don't want to come to your son's christening. I'm sorry, Nicky sort of hates me and it'll just be awkward. By the way, I don't really know what's going on with that and can't wait to see you next June so Nicky and I can scowl at each other while we put the new album together.

Mark and Nicky obviously hadn't said anything, if only evidenced by the fact that his invitation had been in the same envelope as theirs, received in the post only two weeks ago. Mark had brought it to the hotel, pressed it into his hand, and Kian had looked at it with a sinking stomach, not sure what to do.

“Is Nicky going?”

It had been a stupid question. Of course he was. Kian was going too, because it was his oldest friend's son's christening. Because he couldn't not show up and then have to answer the inevitable questions. So here he was, sat in his car after a three hour drive, staring at a neat white building with a cross hanging over it, the front courtyard filled with people.

Filled with Nicky.

He was there. Kian could see him. Had spotted Mark first, with the slight extra height, but there was Nicky too, leaned against him, Mark's arm around his waist. Nothing too full-on, just a general sense of familiarity, like any other married couple there. Nicky looked up for a moment, said something, and Mark laughed, kissing his forehead. They looked perfect.

He looked back down at the invitation in his hands. People were beginning to file into the church. He opened the door, waited a moment until he saw Nicky and Mark pass through the door, and then got out, joining the tailing end of the push of people working their way in.

The place was crammed. He looked around, wondering where he was supposed to sit. He could see some aunts and uncles, and headed towards them, figuring at least he could sit with someone he knew on Gillian's side. But there was an usher, then, and he was being nudged up the front, gestured to an empty spot on the end of a pew in the third row

“Hi.” Mark looked up, patted the seat next to him. Nicky didn't react, except to continue staring at the altar, his lips thinning slightly. “Sit down.”

Kian bit his lip, looking around for other options, but every other seat appeared to be taken. He nodded grudgingly, sinking down and feeling hard wood under his arse, biting into the backs of his knees.

“Hey.” He said softly. Mark nodded, squeezing his knee. Nicky turned then, just for a moment, his eyes flicking over, and then his lips thinned a little more, eyes dulling. Kian bit his lip, staring towards the front.

It went torturously slowly. It was probably lovely really, with Gillian beaming through the whole thing and Shane shedding a few tears. Nicole was sat up the front with Shane's parents and looked as restless as Kian felt, though for slightly different reasons. He tried to focus, but all he could feel was Nicky, sitting on the other side of Mark, determinedly not looking at him.

Finally it was over. He meant to go back to his car, but just ended up sitting around the corner of the church on a bench, hidden underneath a tree and behind a rock wall, just wanting some air for a moment. He rested his elbows on his knees, put his face in his hands, and tried to breathe in deep, feeling suddenly like something was pressing on his chest.

“Hey.” He looked up. Mark was stood there, leaning around the corner. Kian nodded, shifting over slightly when he sat down. Mark was warm, smelled familiar and comforting, his eyes soft and kind. Kian sort of wanted to run away, didn't know how he could stand being so in love with this gorgeous, sweet boy. It was almost like the old days, watching Mark from afar, knowing he belonged to Nicky. Knowing that he would never be a part of that, no matter how much he wanted it. Being so happy for him, seeing him be so content and being loved the way he deserved, and knowing bitterly that he wanted to make Mark feel like that himself.

And he had, for a bit. His dream had come true. And now it was ripped to shreds around his feet because apparently he hadn't wanted it enough to keep it.

“You okay?”

“I'm okay.” Kian shrugged. “You know, all thing considered.” He looked up at the sky, hoping to find some sort of answer in the grey clouds blocking out the sun. “How are you? How's Nicky?”

“We're okay, all things considered.” A hand landed on his knee. “He'll come round.”

“Will he?” Kian bit his lip, looking at his... shit, he didn't even know any more. Boyfriend. Friend. Something. His Mark, who he had loved since he was seventeen. “I... I have to ask, but... what if he doesn't? What if...” He closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. “What if this is it? What if we can't get over...” He swallowed, saw Mark's eyes dim. “This is what we were afraid of, you know? Affecting the band? Like it's okay for the three of us, but we're just supposed to fuck over Shane because I did a stupid thing and Nicky can't forgive me?” He shook his head. “What do I do? I'll do anything to make it right.”

“For the band?”

“No.  I mean, yes, but... but because I love him. Because I love you. Even if we can't be together, even if I can't come back, I... I love you, Marky. I love him. I want him to know, at least, so he doesn't think I hurt him on purpose.”

“Mark, are you... oh.” Nicky stopped up short. Kian looked up. He was stood near the tree, obviously in the process of looking for Mark, his hands thrust deep in his pockets. “You coming?”

“In a minute.” Mark nodded. “You want to sit down?”

“Not really, no.” Nicky's eyes flicked quickly to Kian. “Let's go.”

“Nicky...”

“Kian.” Nicky said softly, still not looking at him. “Just... don't, okay?”

“But...”

“Nix...” Mark stood up, reaching out a hand. Nicky backed away from it. “Come on. We can't keep doing this.”

“Doing what? I'm not doing anything.” Nicky turned away. “Let's go. Shane's putting out morning tea.”

“It can wait. Nicky...” Mark's arm closed around his wrist, and Nicky shook it off, pushing away. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” Nicky turned back around, his eyes angry and full of tears. “I can't fucking do this, okay? I can't sit there and watch you snuggle up to my fucking boyfriend after he fucking well cheated on us. I can't do it.” He bit his lip. “So what the fuck do you want?”

“I want you to sit down and actually acknowledge his existence!” Mark argued, his voice getting louder. “This is fucked, okay? We act like it never happened, and I'm supposed to go on playing happy couples with you knowing you kicked out someone I love? That you took a big part of me and just threw it away?”

“Well, shit, I thought I was enough. I did marry you after all!”

“And all you've done since is tell me how I'm supposed to feel!” Mark exclaimed. “I love Kian. You love Kian. And in less than a year we have to go back into work, spend all our time together crammed on a tour bus, in hotels, on stage, in interviews, on the telly, looking like we're actually friends, like we can stand to be around each other! What the fuck do you want to do then? Let this get worse? Because if that's going to happen, we might as well end things!”

Nicky reeled back, his face going pale.

“End things? What, so you want a divorce?”

“No! God!” Mark reached out, trying to take Nicky's hand. “I want you for the rest of my life. I just need to know that my future isn't on a knife-edge because you can't get over this thing with Kian.”

“This _thing_ with _Kian?!_ ” Nicky shouted. “This wasn't a _thing_. We were together for over two years, and he cheated on us, and I'm just supposed to get over it in a couple of months? I've been nice. I have. I've tried. But I shouldn't have to not be angry any more because it makes _him upset!_ ” He looked at Kian. “Would you fuck off, please?”

“I...” Kian nodded, beginning to stand up. That sounded like a plan to him. He felt suffocated, like he couldn't get enough air.

“No, stay where you are.” Mark ordered, pointing at the bench. Nicky looked like he was about to start growling. “Sit.”

“I...” Kian swallowed, then nodded, sinking back down.

“Fine, I'll leave.” Nicky turned on his heel. Mark grabbed his arm, pulled him back, yanked him against his chest. Nicky stumbled, leaning against him for a moment before finding his feet and pushing off. “Let go.”

“No.” Mark replied stubbornly. There were white marks appearing on Nicky's wrist where Mark's fingers were gripping tight. He was trying to pull away, but to no avail. “I'm sick of this shit. I follow you around the house trying to make you feel better, and you never fucking ask me what I want, so shut up and sit down.”

“Mark...”  
  
“Sit. Down.” Mark growled. Nicky bit his lip, glancing at Kian, and then did as he was told, sliding out of Mark's grip. The rickety bench rocked slightly when his weight landed on it, and Mark sighed, looking at both of them for a long time, his gaze shifting between then. “What the fuck are we going to do, lads?” He asked quietly. Nicky shrugged. “We can't keep...” He shook his head, looking at Kian slowly, then at Nicky. “I'm really tired. Do you know how tired I am? I'm trying so fucking hard to...” He bit his lip, looking away. “One of you has to help me out here, okay?”

“Marky...” Nicky sighed, resting his chin in his hands. “What do you expect here? We're just going to be best friends again, like nothing ever happened?”

“I just want to be in the same room as one of you without having to feel like I'm cheating on someone.” Mark said quietly, looking so lost Kian wanted to stand up and hug him. “I'm exhausted. I love you both and I can't...” He bit his lip. “Nicky... I love you. But I can't... you know things haven't been right. We've been fighting. We hardly ever fight, and I don't even know what we're fighting over half the time. We barely have sex...” He shook his head. Kian hadn't known. Mark hadn't said anything. “You're angry at me, you're angry at Kian. I understand that, but I'm just so so exhausted. I feel like if I go to hug you I don't know whether I'll get one back or if I'm going to get shouted at. And Kian...” Kian looked up, watching his hands clench into fists. “You just sit there in that fucking hotel room, looking so pathetic I don't know what to do. I've tried being supportive, and I feel really sorry for you, but... but you said you wanted to see if there was something else, and you never leave the hotel. I feel like I'm responsible for you.”

“Mark...” Kian felt himself flush, a tickle of anger settling in. He was sort of right, Kian knew that, but it didn't mean he wanted to hear it. It was difficult to bite back what he wanted to say, some sort of sarcastic apology for being Mark's job. Nicky didn't have the same problem.

“I'm sorry we're an inconvenience.” He said flatly. “I guess we'll just get out of your way.”

“Or you could just stop being selfish twats!” Mark exclaimed. “Come on. Kian did a stupid thing, you're angry. That sucks. It really really does. You don't have to take him back. He doesn't have to come back, but this is getting stupid. It's like you're determined to make this as difficult as possible.”

“I just...” Kian bit his lip, trying to think how to word this without having Nicky fly off the handle. “I just wanted to say I'm sorry. That's all. I never meant to hurt you, and I did, and I'm so sorry.” He took a deep breath, feeling Nicky's eyes burn into him. “I'm sorry, Nicky. I love you. I don't know what else to say or do but... I just want to make this right.” He chanced a look over at Nicky, saw flat eyes that gave nothing away.

“You can't.” Nicky said quietly, and when Kian looked again there were tears in his eyes. “I don't...” He swallowed, looking up at Mark. “I'm sorry, babe.” Mark shrugged, his arms crossing over his chest. “I...” He looked back down at his feet. “Why'd you do it?” He asked, his voice almost inaudible. “Were we not enough? Was I not...”

“You were. You were always...” Kian shook his head. “I wasn't. You were enough for each other, you know? And I wasn't a part of that. Not any more. I want to be, but...” He shook his head. He'd thought long and hard about this, since Mark's last visit. Turning it over and over in his head, trying to look at it from every angle. Could he stay? Could he be the third person in a relation with a view to it never ending? With it being not a passing thing, or a placeholder until he found someone of his own? Be with Nicky and Mark all the time, even though they could never say anything, knowing he would always get those looks, those questions about what he was doing with his life, why he was still living with his bandmates well after the band had inevitably ended. Could he do that?

Be loved. Be accepted and respected in a way that was just so _easy_ it broke his heart sometimes. Waking up with Mark spooned to his back, with Nicky's arm draped across his chest. Get up every day and sit across the breakfast table and feeling like he'd just found a missing puzzle piece, feel it slot into place when Mark kissed his hair, when Nicky squeezed his shoulder.

He wanted it. He'd tried the other thing, the thing he had to admit to himself he didn't really want after all, and it wasn't nearly as good. This was settling, maybe, but it was settling for something that filled his whole heart to bursting. It was comfort. It was perfect.

And he'd fucked it up.

“I want to come back.” He admitted quietly. “I miss you so much, and...” He looked up at Mark, who looked tired and pale, his hair ruffled by the soft breeze. It was quiet now, everyone having packed up and left for Shane's place. Just the three of them, tucked in behind the church. “There's no one else, not now. Not ever, I don't think. I can't...” He wiped his eyes, feeling tears start. “And if not, I... I don't want to lose you. You're my best friends.” Mark looked at the ground, his whole body slouching a little.

A hand touched his shoulder.

“Ki...” Nicky sighed, squeezing gently. “I love you. I do, but...”

“I know.” Kian nodded. “I'm sorry.”

“Kian...” Nicky slid over, and an arm came tentatively around his shoulders. He resisted the urge to lean into it, not wanting to assume anything or push it too far. A kiss brushed his temple. “We always wanted you. You were always enough.”

“And I fucked it up.”

“Yeah, you did.” There was a bitter laugh in Nicky's voice, and Kian smiled a little despite himself. “Look... we should go to Shane's okay? But on...” He glanced at Mark. “Saturday?” Mark nodded. “Saturday night... do you want to come over for dinner? I can order pizza and we can just... see. How things go.”

Kian nodded, sort of sure he was about to throw up through the sheer amount of emotion he was trying to hold inside himself.

“Yes please.” He said simply. Nicky nodded, then pulled away, standing back up.

“We better get going.” Nicky suggested. “You coming to Shane's?”

“Yeah.”

“Great, well... we'll see you there.” Nicky said awkwardly. Then he turned and began to walk off stiffly, rounding the corner and disappearing a second later. Kian looked up at Mark, who rolled his eyes. Kian laughed, smiling despite himself.

“Thanks.” He said softly. Mark shrugged, reaching out a hand and pulling him up. “Sorry.”

“It's fine. Sometimes you two just need a good shouting at.” Mark laughed, though his voice was still heavy with frustration. He was pulled into a gentle hug – nothing suggestive, just his friend's arms around him and holding him close for a moment, then letting go. “I love you, you know?”

“I know.” Kian nodded. “Thanks.”

 

*

 

The party went okay. There were enough family and friends there to keep him reasonably distracted without having to talk to Nicky or Mark too much. It was awkward, but at least Nicky was saying more than two words to him, even if it was just to grudgingly ask him to pass the plate of sandwiches, or to nod politely at him in the hall while they waited for the toilet to get freed up.

Nobody seemed to notice anything amiss. The only people who knew about the three of them were Shane and Gillian, and they were a bit swept up with every person they'd ever met clamouring to look at Patrick, who was deeply unimpressed by the whole thing, had drifted into a stubborn sleep about ten minutes in and kept waking up to disinterestedly look at everyone before nodding back off. Nicole was running around like mad, kept trying to crawl into Nicky's lap and ask a thousand questions about random things. He overheard her once or twice, asking where thoughts come from and how high she'd have to jump to not come back down and whether there were dinosaurs in heaven. Nicky was laughing, and Mark was too, his hand on Nicky's shoulder. He looked up for a moment, and smiled at Kian, who smiled back, and went to find something to drink while Nicky tried to explain where the light went when you turned it off.

He drove back to Dublin afterwards, staying long enough that nobody could say he hadn't been there. His mother offered to let him sleep at theirs, but he said he had plans for tomorrow that he couldn't get out of, and went back to the hotel to lay on the bed, feeling the groove he'd settled into it despite the constant maid service.

He went out the next day, just went for a walk. It was sort of nice to be outside, the October air cold on his skin. Nicky had had his birthday a couple of weeks before, and he wondered whether he should still get him a present. It felt rude not to, but at the same time he didn't want to go overstepping his bounds too soon. What did you get the lad you'd cheated on who had invited you around for pizza with his husband? He was fairly certain there wasn't a card for that.

But shit, Nicky was thirty. That made it two years – two whole years – since Mark had proposed to him on that stupid boat. Almost three since they'd started doing this... thing. The longest relationship he'd managed to have in his whole life. And it had been a good one, an easy one. His best friends and some ridiculously excellent sex. There wasn't much more that he thought he could ask for, except to have it all back.

He went back to the hotel. The next day he called up some surf friends he hadn't seen in a while and went to have lunch. They didn't ask about his love life, just talked about random garbage and had a few pints. By the time he stumbled back to the hotel he felt much more relaxed and fell into bed, got up Saturday morning with a knot in his stomach.

The day passed painfully slowly. Mark called to ask him what he wanted on his pizza so they could order early, even thought Mark already knew what his usual was. Kian told him anyway, and then after a heavy silence ended the call. He tried to keep himself busy, but there wasn't much to do in a room this small and he didn't feel like going outside, so he just ended up sort of watching midday TV while he mostly watched the clock.

He headed over at seven. Nicky opened the door.

“Hey.” Kian said awkwardly. Nicky nodded, stepping back to let him through. Mark gave him a quick hug on the way, not too full on with Nicky watching, but enough for a quick reassuring squeeze. A beer was pressed into his hand a minute later, and Kian nodded gratefully at Nicky, taking a seat on the armchair by himself while the two of them sank onto the couch.

“How've you been?” Mark asked lamely. Kian shrugged, laughing slightly.

“You know. Fine.” He took a mouthful of beer. “You?”

“Yeah, fine.” Mark had a swallow as well. “Nicky?”

“Fine.” Nicky smirked. “We're all fine. Congratulations, us.”

“Yeah.” Kian took another swallow, feeling the bubbles hit his stomach. “Erm... I saw Kung Fu Panda.” And just about everything else on pay-per-view in his room. He'd watched The Incredible Hulk about four times. He'd even watched bloody Twilight. The line-up would change on the first of the month. He felt pathetic, knowing that.

“How was that?”

“It was okay.” He said weakly, shrugging off the awkward stare passing between he and Nicky. “Funny, I guess.”

“We saw Iron Man on the plane.” Mark offered. Kian nodded. He'd seen it too, on last month's selection of films. “That was quite good.”

“Yeah.” Kian bit his lip. “So... pizza, huh?”

“Yeah. I got um... some garlic bread and that.” Mark's voice sounded sort of hollow. Nicky stood up and went to the bathroom. Kian sank back into the chair, downing the last of his beer quickly. “You okay?”

“I don't fucking know.” Kian put the bottle down, then got up to get another one, realising halfway to the kitchen that he didn't live here any more, that he was being awfully presumptuous. He got one anyway, then returned to the living room, handing Mark one, clearing away Nicky's empty bottle and replacing it with a full one that was wet with condensation. He tossed the empties in the recycling bin and sat back down. Mark watched, his mouth twisting into a small smile.

“Thanks, mam.”

“Yeah, fuck off.” Kian smirked, got a laugh back. “Sorry. Force of habit.”  
  
“It's fine.” Mark reached out with his foot, poking him lightly in the knee. “It's um... it's easier with you here. Like, I love Nicky but it just... it makes more sense. Maybe that's just that I've gotten used to it, but...”

“Yeah.” Kian nodded. He understood. He felt like he was missing an arm without the two of them there. Knew he'd probably get over it in time, get used to being alone again, but it just felt wrong, like he'd lost his rhythm. “How's Nicky been?”

“Okay. I don't know. He's been really quiet.” Mark shrugged. “Just distant. In the last couple of days, yeah, but even since...” He took a deep breath. “I didn't mean to load this on you. You're going through enough as it is.”

“I want to help, though.” Kian said honestly. “I want things to be okay between you two. I hate feeling like I ruined it for you as well as me.”

“You didn't. It'll be fine.” But his face didn't look all that sure. The toilet flushed, and a moment later Nicky came back into the room, sinking down on the couch next to Mark. He snuggled up next to him, but it looked a bit forced, like he was trying too hard.

“I got you a beer.” Kian said quietly. Nicky looked at the coffee table in surprise, then nodded, reaching out to grab it.

“Cheers.” He bit his lip. “Can I say something?” Kian nodded. “Okay, don't read into this or anything or think it means I'm forgiving you or that... you're invited back, but...” He exhaled slowly. “It's... nice to see you again.”

“It's nice to see you too.” Kian murmured truthfully. Nicky nodded, taking a sip of his beer.

“I um... I was doing laundry the other day and I couldn't find the powder and then I remembered I hadn't bought any because you usually sort out the groceries and I'd forgotten to put it on the list.” Mark laughed softly at that, squeezing Nicky's shoulder. “So... yeah. We're apparently not good at functioning without you.”

“You'll get used to it.” Kian shrugged. “Mark'll help, I'm sure.”

“Mark's bloody useless too.” Nicky smirked, nudging him. “We're late to everything because you always used to get him ready on time, and now...”

“I could be on time if I wanted.”  
  
“You couldn't, babe.” Nicky reached up, stroking his cheek affectionately. “That's what Kian's for.” He realised what he'd said, apparently, and stopped, his mouth twisting into a frown.

“Is it?” Kian asked. Nicky shook his head.

“You're...” He swallowed another mouthful of beer. “You make things work, and now they don't and I can't...” He leaned his chin on his hand, appraising Kian quietly with eyes that felt like prickles on his skin. “How am I supposed to get over it, you know? How...” Kian watched him struggle for a moment. “I'm just so fucking angry all the time. Everything was working. Everything was fine. Even when you weren't there, things were just better and now I look at you and all I see...” He closed his eyes, shaking himself slightly, then opened them again. “And then I've got Mark, who I love so much it hurts to breathe, but he's just more evidence of what you did and I can feel myself hating him a little bit for it. You made me hate Mark, even just the tiniest bit, even though I love him. What am I supposed to do with that?”

“Nicky...” Mark breathed, his voice a little shocked. “You hate me?”

“I love you. That's the fucking problem.” Fingers raked through blonde hair, reddened blue eyes looking between the two of them. “I love you. But you're going and spending time with him like it didn't even mean anything. Like you're not hurt and I wonder why. I mean, am I the one overreacting or do you just not care? And I'm sitting here thinking maybe I'm just losing both of you because I can't be okay with...” He looked at Kian. “I'm not okay with it, and I'm the bad guy?”

“You're not...” Mark sighed, and Kian watched him hug Nicky gently, kissing his cheek. Hands fisted on the back of Mark's shirt. Kian saw Nicky start to shake, heard a low sob. “Oh, love...” Mark murmured, though it was muffled by Nicky's hair. “Why didn't you just talk to me?”

“Because I'm really pissed off and I don't want to.” Nicky's voice hitched. “I'm so fucking tired of being angry.”

“You're allowed to be angry.” Mark soothed. “Of course you are. But I'm sitting here wondering why you won't talk to me or touch me, when all I want to do is make sure Kian's okay and that you're okay. But you won't tell me you're not, and I don't know what I'm supposed to do.”

“I'm sorry.” Nicky sniffed. “I love you.”

“I love you too, you absolute plonker.” Mark laughed. Nicky giggled slightly under his breath, his voice laden with tears. Kian considered leaving the room, giving them some space, when the doorbell rang. He got up gratefully, leaving the two boys on the couch while he went to pay the pizza guy. When he came back they were sitting quietly, Nicky's arm around Mark's waist.

They ate, watched a bit of TV in relative silence, and then Kian went back to the hotel. Mark gave him a hug when he left, and Nicky put a hand on his shoulder, just for a moment, told him to drive safely.

He climbed in the car, looking up at the last minute to see them silhouetted in the door, Nicky leaning against Mark's side.

 

*

 

He got a call two days later, asking if he wanted to meet them at the pub. He did. They ordered food, didn't talk about anything in particular, but it was still nice, just casually shooting the breeze over pub chips and a few beers. Mark started an argument about which celebrities were secretly gay, and it turned into a lengthy, extremely detailed discussion. Nicky started drawing pie charts on his napkin. When Kian got up to go to the bathroom, he came back to find them kissing slowly in the booth, Nicky's fingers in Mark's hair.

They parted a moment later, Nicky touching his lips while Mark blushed slightly, and Kian smiled at both of them and ordered another round.

On Friday, Mark came to visit him in the hotel. Nicky came too, sitting down on the end of the bed and complaining about the price of the peanuts in the minibar. Kian laughed and said they were on him, so Nicky took two packets and ripped them open on the bed. They all sat around picking at them and watching Kung Fu Panda while Nicky told him about how his birthday had gone. They hadn't done anything ostentatious this year, not like the last couple, and Kian had a feeling that had more to do with Nicky's mood than anything else, and felt horrible for ruining his thirtieth.

On Wednesday, Kian ran into Nicky at the shops while he was looking for a new pair of trainers. They chatted for a minute, then got spotted by fans and posed for a couple of pictures. Nicky's arm came around his shoulder, and he had to stop himself bursting into tears with an excitable teenage girl standing between them. Then they got a donut each and Nicky walked Kian back to his car.

On Saturday he went back around to Mark and Nicky's place. Two weeks it had been, since he'd been there, and he was surprised to find it was Nicky calling him, asking if he wanted to come round for dinner, because Mark found this recipe he wanted to try for crepes.

Dinner was being put together when he got there and Mark seemed to have a whole elaborate process going on, with loads of fillings spread out on the counter while he stood over the stove, pouring batter into the pan. Kian let out an impressed laugh, accepting a kiss on the cheek from Mark, a glass of Prosecco and a very quick hug from Nicky. He sat down at the kitchen table while Mark bustled around and declined the offers of help, getting a cheeky wink when Nicky stuck a finger in the batter behind Mark's back and licked it off like they were sharing a secret.

“I can see what you're doing.” Mark said suddenly, glancing back over his shoulder. “Get out of it.”

“But I'm hungry...” Nicky whined.

“Five minutes.” Mark promised, nudging him away with an elbow. Nicky pouted, sinking down opposite Kian.

“He's been doing this all day. Putting food out and not letting me have any.” Kian sniggered. Nicky looked about five, sulking over his empty plate.

“I'm letting you have as much as you like, in a minute.” Mark shot back. “I had to go buy more olives because you ate them all.”

“They were good, though.” Nicky pointed out.

“I know. That's why I bought them the first time.” Mark sighed, glancing over at them. “I want to slap you sometimes.”

“You did. On the honeymoon.” Nicky reached over, swatting Mark's arse. Kian raised an eyebrow, wanting more information now. “It was quality.”

“I spanked you. There's a difference.” Mark chuckled, turning the hob off and tipping the last of the crepes onto the plate. “Right, food's on.” The chair just about tipped over as Nicky launched himself up and grabbed a plate. Kian took a sip of his drink, laughing. It was probably worth waiting a minute until Nicky was done. He was stalking around the buffet, spread out like a goalie, arms grabbing everything at once.

“You spanked him?” Kian asked. Mark rolled his eyes, squeezing an arm past Nicky to grab his drink.

“Yeah, a bit.” He admitted, winking. “We were getting all fat from American food, and I sort of wanted to get a hand in there while there was still something to grab.” He reached up as Nicky came past, patting his arse lightly. “All gone now.” He sighed, looking slightly forlorn.

“Keep feeding me like this and it'll be back.” Nicky mumbled around a mouthful. There were ingredients spilling over the top of the crepe. It looked like Nicky had crammed just about everything in there regardless of if it was sweet, savoury, or made any sense. He could see a bit of chicken poking out over the top, right next to half a strawberry. He sat down, and Kian grabbed his own plate, standing up to put something together. He was spoiled for choice, but managed to grab some steak and cheese and a bit of salad.

“This is fantastic.” He swallowed his first bite. Mark shrugged, looking pleased while he scooped up a few ingredients. “Good work.”

“Just thought I'd give it a go.” He sat back down a moment later. Nicky was already halfway through his behemoth, and there were bits of cherry tomato and custard spilled on his plate. “Nix, you can make more than one, babe. You don't have to do the dinner and dessert at the same time.”

“Sorry. Got excited.” Nicky admitted, looking down at his mess. “This is class, though. If Westlife breaks up, you should do this. Get a van or something, and make crepes. I'd buy one.”

“I'm sure you would.” Mark laughed affectionately. He picked up his glass of wine. “Toast?”

“Toast. Erm...” Nicky tapped his fingers on his chin. “I don't know. To... things.”

“To things.” Kian confirmed, clinking the glasses together. “And other things to come.”

“Many things.” Nicky agreed, glancing at both of them over the remains of his crepe. “Can I have another one?”

“You haven't finished that one yet.” Mark pointed out. “Slow down a bit, okay? They're not going anywhere.”

 

*

 

Kian went back to the hotel late that night. They stayed up for a bit, Nicky showing him a few of his birthday presents and then playing some videogames. They hadn't talked about anything serious since that night, but Kian didn't really mind. He had a feeling, however irrational, that he was being tested, to see if he fit in still, if the comfort and ease was still there despite his transgressions. He really wasn't sure how it was going, but it was nice to see them again, to be laughing with them, however awkwardly. To Mark dropping a chaste kiss on his lips before he left, to Nicky giving him a considering look and then leaning in to hug him tightly, if only for a moment.

It was a bit like being dated.

He visited again the next night. Then the next one. Nicky kissed him when he left, just for a moment, just a brush on his temple, but it was something at least. They seemed better too, seemed more at ease with each other. It was nice. If he was asked, the thing he wanted most was for them to be together, to be happy. If he got to be a part of that too, well that was definitely a bonus, but there was something gorgeous and familiar about watching them snuggle on the couch, Nicky's hand absently stroking Mark's thigh while they watched TV.

On the next Saturday, Nicky reached out a hand and gestured him over. Kian went, sitting down next to them on the other end of the sofa while Nicky curled up against Mark's side. Feet were in his lap a moment later and Kian settled in to rubbing the soles gently, feeling Nicky relax in his hands like he always had. When he was done, Nicky took his hand, tugging him over, and he found himself pressed against the older boy's side, an arm around his shoulder, his face next to the hand Mark had thrown around Nicky's own shoulders. Leaning in carefully and feeling fingers hesitantly stroke his neck.

He went back to the hotel. Came back on Sunday night to find Nicky watching the news while Mark sorted out dinner. He sank down, felt Nicky shift a little closer.

“Hey.” Nicky murmured softly. Kian nodded, glancing over at him. “You want a drink?”

“Okay.” Kian shrugged. “Just one, though. I have to drive.”

Nicky nodded, stood up and disappeared into the kitchen. He heard him say something to Mark, something low and whispered that he couldn't hear. When he came back out he handed Kian a beer. By the time dinner came out it was gone, and Nicky was getting another round.

“Kian?”

He shook his head. “No, that's me done. Driving.” He reminded him.

“Yeah.” Nicky shifted slightly, biting his lip. Kian looked up at him, feeling heavy under the pondering look he was getting. “If... you want another one...” He said slowly. “You're welcome to sleep in the spare room.”

Kian nodded, keeping his face carefully straight. “Do you want me to?” He could see Mark looking between the two of them out of the corner of his eye, his mouth twisted into an anxious grimace.

“Don't think it'd hurt.” Nicky said finally. “Up to you.”

“Oh. Okay.” Kian shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant and not launch himself across the sofa and into Nicky's lap. “If you don't mind.”

Nicky handed him another beer.

He went to bed that night, brushing his teeth with a familiar brush, drawing familiar curtains, sinking into familiar sheets. It was exactly as he'd left it. He didn't think it had even been touched, wasn't sure if either of them had even been in here.

He drifted asleep to the sounds of Mark and Nicky having sex down the hall.

 

*

 

When he woke it was to Nicky standing in his doorway, calling his name softly. He rolled over, looking up in confusion. It was still dark, though his clock pegged it as around six-thirty.

“What?” He mumbled, wondering suddenly if Nicky had realised this was a horrible mistake and was here to kick him out.

“Get dressed.” He said quietly. Kian sat up, all ready to gather his things and go again. “Come for a walk.”

He did, tugging on his jeans from the night before and his long-sleeved shirt, digging around in the wardrobe until he found a warm coat from last winter that he hadn't taken with him. There was frost on the windows, and when he stepped outside the cold bit his nose savagely. He shivered, tucking his scarf up around his face.

“It's cold.”

“Yeah.” Nicky nodded, looking pink and ruddy in his coat and beanie. “Come on.”

They walked in silence for a long time. Kian wasn't sure how long, or even where they were going, but Nicky wasn't offering any clues and he didn't want to interrupt things when they were this fragile. By the time Nicky spoke the sky was starting to grey and they were walking through a park, the grass wet and crunchy under his feet. Nicky paused, and Kian pulled up too, realising he was being stared at.

“If...” Nicky swallowed, looking away slightly. “If we wanted you to come back... if I did...” He looked up at the sky as if he was trying to find the words. Kian bit his lip, feeling his heart start to race. “What would you want?”

Kian swallowed, trying to figure out what to say while he waited for the cotton wool in his mouth to go away.

“I want...” He looked at Nicky, really looked. What did he want, really? At the end of all this?; 'You' wasn't enough. It was too vague, too simple, had led to all these problems the first time around. “I want to be in a relationship.” He said finally. “With you and Mark. I know you're each other's first... first choice but... I don't want to feel secondary.” He rubbed his cold nose, trying to think. “And if I can't have that, I want you two to be happy. I don't want to be responsible for you not being happy, because I love you both so much.” He felt his eyes prickle with tears. “But at some point I need to know that I'm not an afterthought, that I'm not just there for when you two get bored or kinky. I have to be in it, one hundred percent, or I have to move on and figure out what else is out there. I don't want to settle.”

Nicky nodded, his face blank. He reached out, his gloved hands pressing to Kian's icy cheeks, warming them up.

“I don't think...” Nicky huffed out a breath, looking pained. “I don't think we ever gave you enough credit. The last couple of months have been...” He pressed his hands to his own face, rubbing away the cold. “We don't work right without you. We always did before, but now...” He sighed. “It's like the last few years have been built on you being there. I know it's partly that I was angry, but at the same time, it's the little things. It's doing groceries and having conversations and... I love him. I love him so much it kills me, and when we were together that whole time in America it was perfection, just the two of us, but I guess I always knew you'd be here when we came back. And now you're not, and it just makes me feel... feel like something's missing, something I can't put back.”

“You're not happy with Mark?”

“I'm so happy.” Nicky laughed slightly, wiping his nose with his glove. “It hurts how happy I am with Mark, but it's like something else isn't there. I keep turning to talk to you, and you're not there, and then I miss you, and then I get angry because it was your fault. And then I think maybe it was mine for not appreciating you enough, and then I get angry at myself for thinking that, because I wasn't the one who cheated.”

“I'm sorry.” Kian said uselessly. Nicky nodded.

“I know, and all I want in the world is to forgive you, but I can't yet, and that makes me so fucking frustrated.” Nicky stepped a little closer, closing the distance between them slightly. “We're never going to be able to say anything, you know? You'll always be a secret. You'll always be this thing we can't talk about. Mark and I can't even get legally married yet, so that's going to be way too big to take out in public. Maybe once the band's over...”

“I know.” Kian swallowed back the lump in his throat. “I can... cope with that.”

“Can you?” Nicky asked putting a hand on his shoulder. “Really? Because this isn't a fun thing we're doing any more, so I need you to be sure. This is me asking if you're looking at this as a forever thing. No seeing anyone else, no lies. It means you won't be getting married or having kids, won't be getting to bring a nice girl home to your parents. I need you to actually think about this, because if it happens again...” He inhaled slowly, his eyes clouding. “I won't take it again. It'll be over. Properly. I won't ever want to see you again. Everything will end. Maybe things won't work out and we'll break up, and that's fine but if you ever cheat on us again...” He left the end of that sentence open. It didn't matter, Kian understood. “You need to think about it. If this is something you can do.”

Kian let out a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding. There was a bench nearby so he sank into it, feeling wet wood through his jeans. Nicky sank down next to him. Over the playground, the first rays of light were starting to peek over the horizon. The park was deserted. A hand slid into his, almost intangible through the thick wool of their gloves, just squeezing pressure.

“Is this something you can do?” Kian asked slowly. The hand in his tensed slightly, then relaxed.

“I'm angry.” Nicky admitted. “But... yeah. In a while, when I'm not so angry... yeah. I can do that.”

“Can Mark?”  
  
“Yeah.” The hand in his squeezed for a moment. “We talked about it. He knows where I stand and he respects it. He'll be devastated if you leave, but... he understands where I'm coming from.”

“Okay.” Kian ran his free hand over the rutted wood of the bench, trying to think, feeling icy moisture bleed through his glove and sting his fingers. “I want to think about it.”

“Definitely.” Nicky nodded, glancing around. A moment later, cold lips pressed to his cheek. Kian felt himself relax, brought his other hand over to close around their joined ones, cradling Nicky's between them. “You're so beautiful. I'm pissed off, and I sort of hate you, but I can't...” He kissed his cheek again. “I love you.”

“I love you too. So much.” Kian swallowed hard, choking back relieved tears. Just to hear those words on Nicky's lips again... “I would never hurt you. Not again.”

“Then you have to prove it.” Nicky shrugged, sliding his hand out of Kian's. “Come on. Let's go make Mark some breakfast, then you can go back to the hotel.” He stood up, and Kian followed, standing to face him. A thumb brushed over his bottom lip. He looked tired in the dawn light. Almost as tired as Kian felt.

“Okay.” Kian took his hand for a moment, then let it drop. This would be his life now, if he wanted it. Not holding Nicky's hand while Mark was holding the other, not kissing Mark while Nicky got to. Loving them in private and being friends in public.

They crossed back across the park, the sunlight starting to warm his skin.

He had a lot of thinking to do.

 

*

 

It was raining. The kind of rain that wanted to be sleet but couldn't be bothered. It sloshed around Kian's boots as he picked his way up the front path, the puddles reflecting merry colours from the Christmas lights.

He'd helped hang them, holding the ladder while Mark scurried up, looking totally unaffected by the wobbling, leaning over way too far with the staple gun while Nicky nagged below, squawking about not hurting himself.

He'd been spending more time here lately. Not going so far as to move out of the hotel, but he'd stayed in the spare room a couple of nights over the last month, then had bogged off to the Southern hemisphere to get some sun and space to think when the cold started to fill his head with fog. He'd bought Nicky a brightly coloured blanket in Morocco, which lived over the back of the couch now, and a ornate mosaic teapot for Mark, which was now sitting on the mantel above the same fireplace where Nicky had smashed a beer bottle in anger over two months before.

He knocked on the door, felt the sudden warmth press against him when it opened, laughed when Nicky pressed a glass of wine into his hand before he'd even gotten inside.

“Popcorn?” Nicky asked, holding out the bowl while Kian struggled out of his coat.

“Give me a minute.” He rolled his eyes, then smiled gratefully when Mark appeared from the kitchen helping him out of it. “Cheers.” It was hung on the hook a moment later and he reached out for a handful, squashing it into his mouth.

“Is it snowing yet?” Mark asked.

“Not yet.” Kian reported, watching the younger boy cup his hands to the window to peer through, his nose flattening onthe glass. “Supposed to start tonight.”

“It was supposed to start last night.” Mark pouted, pulling back and rubbing his cold nose.

“You'll be sick of it in a few weeks.” Nicky pointed out. “It'll be 'when's this snow going to stop?'”

“Don't know what you're talking about.” Mark stuck out his tongue, jerking away when Nicky went to grab it. “Stop eating popcorn. Dinner'll be ready in a minute.”

Kian paused, his hand already in the bowl, then grabbed a handful anyway, shoving it in before Mark could protest. Nicky laughed, starting to head towards the kitchen.

“What are we having?” Kian enquired. There was an amazing smell wafting through the house and his stomach was starting to growl. There was a yellow glow shining from the oven. He could see a covered pan inside and bent down for a closer look.

“Get away from it!” Mark scolded. “I swear, you two...”

“Yeah but you love us.” Nicky said confidently. Mark rolled his eyes.

“What's that got to do with anything?” He griped. “Oi, cut it out!” He swatted Nicky with a wooden spoon and the older boy yanked his fingers back out of the saucepan he was peering into. “Right, both of you. Living room. Now.”

“But I didn't...” Kian protested.

“Now.” Mark raised an eyebrow. “I don't want to see either of you until I call. Now.” He said again, pointing into the hall. Nicky pouted, and Kian followed him, trailing in the wake of the slouching man in front.

“He's mean.” Nicky slumped onto the couch and Kian joined him, laughing. “It's all this free time, I swear. All he does is cook now. He's buying recipe books. I don't know, I feel like I'm losing my little boy...”

“Maybe we need an intervention.” Kian suggested. “Rehab. Wean him off onto basic pastas and salads again.”

“What we need is a faster metabolism.” Nicky sighed. “You know he made soufflé the other night? Fucking soufflé. He even made caramel fudge sauce to go with it. It was ridiculous. It didn't even sink or anything, just sat there like this perfect fluffy thing.”

“Good?”

“I wanted to have sex with it.” Nicky admitted. “But I was too full of soufflé to move.” Kian chuckled. He'd missed this, the ease, the random conversations, hearing Mark clatter about in the other room while Nicky sat casually next to him.

“I want to have a chat tonight.” He said. Nicky froze, then looked at him, biting his lip. Kian hadn't meant to say anything yet, was going to wait until after dinner when they'd had a few glasses of wine, but he sort of wanted to say something now so he didn't bottle it later or brush it under the rug. It felt like all he'd been doing was thinking, and there was nothing more to think. He just had to do it, lay his cards on the table and see what they said.

Nicky was still studying him quietly. He released the lip tucked under his teeth, nodded slowly.

“Proper chat?”

“Proper chat.” Kian nodded. “I've been thinking about it and... yeah. Proper chat.”

“Give us a hint?”

“Not that simple.” Kian sighed. “After dinner, okay?”

“Okay.” Nicky reached out, putting a hand over his. Kian turned his over, squeezing it. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Kian nodded. “Do you still want me back?” They hadn't really discussed it since that morning in the park, had just tried to settle back into being friends again, getting comfortable. It was nice, but it hadn't been enough, been the same. There was a distance there, and Kian didn't know if it was permanent.

“If you want to come back...” Nicky linked their fingers. “Then that would be nice. Yeah. You know the rules, though.”

“I do.” Kian confirmed. He looked up when he saw Mark's head sticking out of the kitchen door.

“Dinner's on.”

Nicky took one last lingering look at Kian and stood, pulling him towards the kitchen and not letting go of his hand.

 

*

 

Dinner was amazing. Marinated lamb shanks with a broccoli puree and a massive pile of cheesy roast vegetables. Kian couldn't even eat it at first, felt wrong destroying a work of art like this. There was wine, too. He'd matched a fucking wine to it, and it was perfect. Kian sort of wanted to throw it up so he could eat it again.

“You were crap in Home Ec.” He commented. “When the hell did this happen?”

“I was crap in Home Ec because we made the same shitty apple crumble about twelve times.” Mark shrugged. “Plus you didn't need much to pass, you just didn't set the oven on fire and it was an easy B minus.”

“Can you make an apple crumble?”

“Probably.” Mark conceded. “I've got a recipe for one with a coconut crust and blueberries.”

“I said an apple crumble, not a Celebrity Masterchef entry.” Kian rolled his eyes, looking down at the pants he'd undone about ten minutes into the meal. “Please don't tell me there's dessert. I can't take it.”

“Sticky date pudding and butterscotch sauce.”

“Oh, fuck _off_.” Kian groaned, smacking his forehead down onto the table. Nicky laughed, his voice clear and bright despite the way he was leaning sleepily back in his chair, his hand on his stomach. “You're ridiculous.”

“So... no dessert then?” Mark asked, and Kian sighed, looking up at the smirk on his face. He nodded slowly, knowing it was probably a mistake and not caring, not when Mark went to the warm oven and pulled out a cake tin, the scent filling the room. He put it down on the counter, then went to the fridge. “Cream or ice-cream?”

Kian's next groan mingled with Nicky's soft, overwhelmed moan. Mark laughed, beginning to clear away their plates.

Dessert was obscene too. Kian was almost tempted to just fall asleep on the and couch forget the whole thing until he was capable of coherent speech again, but Nicky was starting to shoot him expectant sidelong glances as they neared the end and Kian tried to convince himself that he couldn't eat any more of these strawberries. Or maybe just one more. Okay, two. And ice-cream. Fucking hell.

They ended up on the couch afterwards, Nicky's pants on the floor while he lay in his boxer shorts, looking dazedly at the ceiling. Kian tipped the recliner all the way back, trying not to make any sudden movements.

“I told you not to eat popcorn.” Mark admonished, as though it was their fault he'd killed them. “You want another wine?”

“I want to die.” Nicky whispered dramatically. Kian snorted, moaning when his stomach shifted. “I fucking love you, but you're going to kill me.”

“There's leftovers.”

“Ugh.” Nicky closed his eyes, smiling when Mark bent over to drop a kiss on his head. “Let's not talk about food.”

“What do you want to talk about, then?”

Nicky didn't respond to that, but he lifted his head a little, opening his eyes. Kian felt them bore into him, tilted the chair back up so he was sitting up straighter. Nicky struggled backwards, leaning against the arm rest.

“Time for a chat.” Kian said quietly. Mark stared at him for a moment, then nodded, sinking down onto the other end of the couch.

“That kind of chat?” Mark asked, his voice soft and concerned. Kian nodded. “Okay.” He exhaled slowly, his hands twisting slightly in his lap. Kian leaned forward as much as his stomach would allow, caressing his hand gently. “Are you...?” he swallowed. “What are you doing?”

Kian breathed in, trying to find enough air to get the words out.

“I'm staying.” He said finally. He saw Nicky's eyes glow, Mark's face break out into a smile. “But... if I'm going to do that, we need to talk.” The smile went away rather quickly. “I'm giving up a lot for you, okay? This means I'm in this. That I can't see other people, that I can't get married or have kids. It means that I won't cheat on you, that I'll do everything in my power to be what you need me to be, to make you happy. That I'll give up everything I figured I'd have eventually. That I have to live a lie, hide a secret, maybe for the rest of my life.” He'd thought long and hard about this, and the question needed to be asked. “So I have to know... would you do the same for me? If it was you?”

Nicky bit his lip, looked at Mark. Mark looked back.

“Yeah.” Nicky said finally. “If it came to that, yeah. Unless it was at Mark's expense, I would.” He looked back at Kian. “He comes first. In everything. It doesn't mean I don't love you, but if we're being honest, if we're talking terms... Mark's first. Always. But I would give up everything for you if I had to. Except Mark.”

“Mark?”

Mark sighed, looking down at his hands. Kian watched him, watched the cogs turn slowly in his head. If anything, this was the one he was worried about. Nicky was passionate, prone to massive displays of romance and stupid affection, and he'd loved Kian from the start. Mark was different. Kian loved him, but he'd been late to the party in returning it, and Kian still wasn't sure if he was as serious as Nicky was.

“If it didn't compromise Nicky...” Mark was breathing slowly, too slowly. The pause was heavy on the air, pushing down on his chest. “Then yes. I would do that for you.” He said finally. Kian felt tears reach his eyes, swallowed them back.

Okay.

They sorted out terms. Once every six months they'd reconsider, take a day to discuss how things were working out, whether there needed to be any adjustments, whether people were having different feelings. They had to be honest. If someone wasn't feeling it, even for a moment, it had to be said or risk things souring irreparably. They didn't write up a contract, it wasn't necessary, but it was good to talk things out, even when they started arguing a little bit over things like sleeping arrangements and family events. They hadn't really spoken about it before in detail, Kian realised, had just been toddling along for all this time. He wondered if maybe they had this never would have happened, if the hotel room he'd spent the last two months in, the hatred and the anger and the uncertainty would have never existed.

And then, after midnight, when the tears and the arguing and the negotiating was done, they went upstairs to bed, Kian spooned to Mark's front while Nicky threw an arm around both of them, his hair tickling Kian's chin and soft breaths brushing his chest. He wanted to cry a little bit at the overwhelming familiarity of it, but mostly he just wanted to sleep.

 

*

 

When Kian woke up he was alone. He didn't mind though, gave himself a moment to sink into the bed, to breathe in the scent he'd become accustomed to over the last two years. He wriggled on the sheets, smiling to himself, then climbed out of bed, stealing a robe from Nicky's side of the wardrobe.

He belted it round his waist as he wandered down the stairs. He could hear them already, their voices light and sleepy, echoing up the stairs from the living room.

“Morning.” Nicky looked over his shoulder as Kian stepped in. They were sat on the couch, huddled up under a blanket together in their pyjamas. “We didn't want to wake you.”

Kian nodded, staggering over to the couch and lifting up the end of the blanket, sliding in. A cold foot pressed affectionately to his knee, and he reached to grab it, not sure whose it was. Not minding either way. Another one poked him a moment later, and he grabbed that too, laughing when Nicky stretched on the couch like a pleased cat.

“It's snowing.” Mark remarked, and when Kian looked over at the window he saw flakes starting to float down, the air filled with a white glow. “Almost Christmas.”  
  
“Almost Christmas.” Nicky agreed. “What do you want?”

“Dunno. Don't need anything.” Mark shrugged, his eyes drifting shyly to Kian. “Quite happy.”

Kian grinned, feeling a blush spill into his cheeks when a third foot poked him gently under the blankets.

They had breakfast, just some boring old toast, which was a bit of an anticlimax after last night's dinner, but a bit of a relief as well. Kian didn't think he could take another gourmet meal in this short a time period. Nicky was right, though, there were recipe books stacked along the whole top shelf of the pantry. Kian wasn't sure why, when that was all on the internet, but he wasn't complaining.

They rugged up afterwards at Mark's insistence and went out to make snowmen. They were fairly crappy snowmen, considering it had only been snowing gently for about two hours, but the finished result was cute, if a bit pathetic and only about two feet tall. The arms on Nicky's creation kept falling off, and Mark's carrot nose was given a bit of surgery when he got distracted and started eating it half-way in. Kian pressed stone eyes into his, watching one slide slowly down a melting face.

Nicky threw a snowball. Kian caught it with the back of his head. Then Mark giggled, flopping down on the ground and making something that was more a dirt-angel than anything, but he looked pleased with his accomplishment and Kian couldn't do much more than tug him back up and kiss him tentatively, not sure if this was where they were at yet. Hands slid into his, and he realised belatedly that they were Nicky's, felt a chin land on his shoulder from behind and a soft breath on his neck.

“Come inside.” Nicky said softly. “I missed you.”

His coat was off in fairly short notice, and he followed Nicky slowly up the stairs, feeling Mark fall into step behind him.

He hadn't forgotten, but it was all so much clearer now, the memories coming back into stark relief when Nicky tugged off their clothes, climbing into his lap and kissing him so gently, then harder, his tongue pushing deep into his mouth as though tasting him. Kian tasted back, feeling Nicky writhe in his hands when he ran fingers down ribs, feeling the shape of him for the first time in a long time. Felt kisses dot down his neck, the solid weight of Mark behind him, hands on his stomach as they wrapped around him.

“I love you.” Mark said quietly. Kian nodded, arching when fingers plucked at his nipples, another set of hands framing his face while Nicky kissed him.

“I love you too.” Nicky added, when he pulled away for a moment's breath.

“I love you three.” Kian joked. Nicky grinned, chucking him lightly on the chin.

“Exactly.” He laughed. “Stay, okay?”

“Yeah.” Kian nodded, moaning when he felt Mark's hands drift down his front. “Oh.”

“Oh.” Mark echoed, a laugh in his voice. Kian pushed into the fingers stroking his inner thighs, trying to get more contact. He turned his head, feeling himself relax when Mark kissed him, felt that warmth that he was allowed to sink into, the hot wetness of him opening up on Kian's mouth. Nicky kissed down his neck, still straddling Kian's lap, weighting him to the bed.

And then fingers, kisses, touches. Hands all over him, touching him slowly while he tried to touch back. A mouth trailing down his stomach, lips on the back of his neck while he was tugged down onto the bed and explored. Fingertips stroking up his spine while they both kissed him, sliding over each other and into his mouth, their tastes mingling on his tongue. Mark let out a soft, content moan, and shit, Kian had forgotten how Mark _moved_ , like a predatory cat, how Nicky was slow and snakelike, flickering kisses over his shoulderblades and pushing fingers into him so carefully Kian barely felt the pain, just the stretch of Nicky filling him. Then he was on his back and Nicky was sliding home, his eyes falling closed in obvious pleasure, cheeks flushing while he spread Kian open, fitting perfectly like he was meant to be there.

“I love you.” Mark breathed, cradling him in strong arms, Kian leant back against his chest while Nicky tilted his hips up and began to thrust slowly, his face the picture of earnest concentration. Of want. A tongue flicked out, wetting his lips while Mark stroked a hand over every bit of skin he could reach, the other grasping his cock and beginning to move. He cried out, louder than he meant to, his hips twisting in sudden, jolting pleasure and then fuck, that was it, right there, and his eyes were squeezing shut while he tried to catch a breath.

“So beautiful.” Nicky whispered. “God I... I missed you.” His eyes were shining a little bit, and for a second Kian thought Nicky was going to start crying, but then his eyes rolled back, his lip bitten on a gasp and he was pushing harder, faster, while Mark's hands tethered Kian to the ground.

“Yes...” Kian arched in those arms, feeling the thrust go suddenly deeper. “Nicky...”

“Kian.” Nicky panted. “Oh fuck, Ki...” He bent over, kissing Kian hard while the younger blonde wrapped arms around him tight, feeling him shake. “I need you.”

“I need you too.” Fingers squeezed him tighter, tilting him against his own belly. “Mark...” He pleaded, but the touch was too light, not enough, not when Nicky shuddered suddenly and filled him, his lips stuttering on Kian's around a harsh groan. Kian moaned, trying to move his hips harder, speed up the stroke, and then understood why Mark hadn't brought him off when Nicky slid out and he was pulled back flush against Mark's chest, lifted, and pushed down. Mark made a broken, gasping groan, wrapping his arms tight around Kian's chest, arousal filling him effortlessly despite his loosened muscles.

“God, Ki...” Mark hissed in a breath, stilling for a moment. Kian was glad. He felt like his thoughts were trying to fall out of his head and he needed a moment to regroup. Nicky pressed against him, still trembling slightly from his orgasm, and then they were kissing over Kian's shoulder, Mark letting out soft, pleased moans, his hands holding Kian's hips still while he began to rock, nudging up into him, feeling perfect and hard and like Kian was madly in love with him and didn't know how to stop.

Nicky took over the stroke, changing the torturous slow one for something faster and more relieving. Kian twisted his neck, getting a desperate kiss that just about sucked him in while Mark moved harder, eyes squeezing shut, cheeks pink.

He came sandwiched between the two boys. His boys. Nicky's fingers stroking him expertly, Mark moving like he couldn't stop, and then it got too much and he heard his own cry, felt a deafening rush go through him, and then it was all just release, the last few months rushing out of him while Mark bit his earlobe, his breath painting the side of Kian's face in humid heat, and Kian tried to say something about how much he loved both of them but only managed a whimpering, trembling cry, Nicky's mouth biting it away while Mark squeezed him tighter and filled him up, his chest heaving against Kian's back.

They collapsed back to the bed. Nicky looked slightly more recovered, so he was in charge of getting the blankets over them. Kian didn't think he knew how to move, not with Mark still spooned to his back, still inside him but softening, slipping out while the blankets trapped their body heat and Nicky stroked his sweaty hair, eyes the most content Kian had seen them in ages.

And then there was more sleep, while the snow piled up on the windowsill.

 

*

 

The Christmas tree was massive, but it didn't seem quite so impressive compared to the mountain of presents dwarfing it. Nicky had sat up suddenly straight only two minutes before, blurted out 'It's Christmas!' and then been out of bed and thumping down the stairs while Mark and Kian tried to figure out if it was even morning yet. They were stood in the doorway to the living room, watching Nicky rummage through presents for one with his name on, torn wrapping paper already on the floor.

“Calm down, Nix.” Mark laughed, going over and tugging him gently away while Nicky struggled and pouted, plonking himself on the floor with a present in his lap. “One at a time, okay?” He picked up the gift Nicky had already unwrapped and apparently hadn't spared a thought for since. “Look, you got a book about boxing. It's got Manny Pacquiao on the front. You like him.”

“I do. Thanks Kian...” Nicky tilted his head up and Kian went over to give him a kiss, though his hands didn't stop unwrapping the gift in his lap. “This is going in the bathroom.” Place of pride, the bathroom was. Sometimes Kian would go looking for Nicky only to realise he'd been sitting on the loo for twenty minutes, absorbed in a book. “Oh, cool!” He looked down at the box in his lap, pulling the paper off an iPod dock shaped like a little Porsche, the speakers large black tyres. “We can use this at lunch!”

The whole clan was coming around today. They'd discussed it, considered going up to Sligo, but this just felt less complicated, having Mark and Nicky's families round for Christmas as their first year as a married couple, and since Kian lived here it made sense to invite his family too. His older siblings were all off having Christmas with their own families, so he was being the good son, having them around for the festive season, Colm and Marielle in tow. It was a little unconventional, maybe, but so were they.

He'd moved back in the day after they'd built the snowmen, had spent the last two weeks in relative bliss, sinking back into old routines.  It was startlingly easy.  He never wanted to stay in that hotel again, though on the downside The Dark Knight had just come on pay-per-view and he'd sort of wanted to watch it.  Not as much as he wanted to be back in their house, though, sleeping in their bed, his clothes and belongings back where they were supposed to be.

Mark was cooking today, of course, and his practice efforts had been well-received and immediately devoured by Nicky and Kian, who did not at all mind being taste-testers on the constant parade of honey-glazed ham and apple and sage stuffing for the goose thawing in the kitchen.

But that was later, once Mark put the oven on and started emptying the overstuffed fridge. Right now it was just Nicky, throwing a wrapped parcel at his head. He caught it, laughing, got a kiss on the cheek from Mark.

“Merry Christmas.”

Kian leaned into him while he peeled the paper away, dug through the bubble wrap cladding something square and firm.

“Oh, lads...” He bit his lip, smiling down at the framed photograph. It had been taken on the day of the wedding, the three of them in their suits on the balcony at the reception, the water dark and reflecting light behind them. Kian was stood in the middle, the two taller boys on either side, arms around his waist. Nicky was pressing a kiss to his cheek. Just a friendly, playful one, nothing suspicious, and Mark was laughing, looking at them both fondly. “Thank you.”

“Thank you.” Nicky stood, bits of wrapping paper falling off him like snow. “Merry Christmas, babe.”

Kian grinned, feeling two sets of arms wrap around him, two kisses press to his cheeks. Mark pulled back, full lips curving into a smile.

“Can we keep you?” He asked softly.

Kian nodded, resting his head in a strong chest.

“Yeah.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> And... that's it. The official last ever entry of Keeping You.
> 
> This thing has been over eight years in the making, and it makes me a little sad to know I won't be sinking into this world again. I'm happy with where it's at, though, and I wouldn't want to ruin it by having it carry on needlessly now that the journey's over. I'm really happy for Kian, and for Mark and Nicky, and I'm sure they'll be having a grand time for years to come without me having to mess with them. And if they don't, well, I know they've always got each other.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who's ever left support or criticism, here or on other sites that don't exist any more. Without being presumptuous, I hope some of you have had at least half as good a time with this as I have. I feel like they're almost family, even though they're fictional versions of some rather famous lads who occasionally sing a bit.
> 
> Be good, and always remember to use plenty of lube when you're copping a double penetration.
> 
> Thanks.


End file.
